Today

7:40 A.M. Wake from a blissful sleep on my new extra cushy yet surprisingly firm bed. Briefly remember tastes great and less filling commercials. Arise from bed ready to take on the day with a newfound sense of good mattress-induced purpose.

7:40-8 A.M. Eat cereal. I do not care that the taste is absent. Food is fuel. The body is a temple.

8:10 A.M. Make the mistake of wondering what to wear to work. Put on various collared shirt combinations before deciding on something stripey and nice. Note: I'm not sure that's how a fashion designer would describe it. Put lotion on my face. Mentally punch myself for putting lotion on my face.

8:20 A.M. Go out into the world on a blustery day. Reflect on the fact that I hate blustery days. Blustery day seems unfazed. Drive to work listening to NPR. Reflect on the fact that I hated NPR for a long time. Try to disregard the obvious fact that my enjoyment of NPR may be directly related to the wrinkles on my forehead.

9-12:45-Commence loaning books to student populations throughout the United States. Reflect on the fact that I'm probably the closest thing to Santa Claus that you'll see this Holiday season. Except that my gift is obscure journal articles and dusty books. Briefly think of demanding that everyone refer to me as good St. Nick at the office. Desist in favor of keeping my job.

11:30-Loan an article from the optimistic journal-the journal of divorce and remarriage. I'm glad they finally got their shi- together and got a publication going.

12:45-Go to Christmas Holiday party with co-workers. Immediately lament not wearing an ugly Christmas sweater. Think of adding ugly Christmas sweater to my wish list when I get home. Forget it until now.

1:00-I enjoy putting cookies and cake in my temple.

2:00-Cease eating after one hour solid of gluttony. Remind myself to have self-control, but not today.

2:15-The clouds are gunmetal. The wind is stiff and cold. No birds dot the sky. No leaves are in the trees. I talk with a co-worker about the job market. We conclude that it is bad. The wind is still blustery.

4:30-Go to the gym. Calculate that 3,289 sit-ups should off-set my caloric intake from lunch. Note: I was not a math major but my figures are unimpeachable. Cease after 300 because it's almost 3,000.

6-6:30-Drive home in the cold weather. I don't honk at anyone. I change lanes somewhat sporadically in an attempt to speed up. I do not cut anyone off. Have a conversation with an interlocutor Plato style.

Interlocutor: Why are you changing lanes so much? Do you really think that getting home two minutes earlier is worth it?

M: If I save two minutes over the course of 250 working days during a year that adds up to a total of five hundred minutes. So, yes, I'll take my five hundred minutes and use them as I please.

Interlocutor: You're probably going to use them to watch television.

M: You might be right. But I might use those minutes to write a really outstanding novel that will get me on Oprah and the view and the cover of US weekly.

Interlocutor: Unlikely.

M: We're done here.

An aside in honor of Christmas: Does anyone like ham? I know my family ate ham for Christmas for about fifteen years until we had this groundbreaking conversation.

M: Ham sucks.

P2: Yes it does!

M: Why have we been eating ham all these years?

Interlocutor: Actually, the answer is more complex than you might think. You're eating ham for a variety of reasons that include

M: He's a witch!

P2: Burn him!

And maybe on a good day I might like a ham sandwich. But in general I think that it's safe to say that ham is not one of our beloved meats. This year let me be the first to suggest a nice Tofurky as the new traditional Christmas dinner. It's available at your local grocer for a reasonable price. The prep and cook time are much lower than you get with meat. It is a more sustainable meal, which is important, it's good to feel like you're better than other people when you're having a meal.

And, here's the real plus. It tastes nothing like meat. Your guests are going to take one bite of it and ask, "What is this crap?" You can't really put a price tag on something like that. 12.95 at your local Trader Joe's.

But seriously the best part is that most of your guests probably won't say anything. They'll wait to get in the car and drive home with their loved ones, kids et al, before they start bitching about the quality of the cooking and excoriating their wives, husbands, et al for making them drive to that damn hippie house hold. And guess what? You don't have to hear any of it.

Then you have the added bonus/fun of watching them try and choke down your tasteless turkey constructed entirely of nuts and bits of grass that you've gathered from the yard and a few twigs from a bird's nest, with a smile on your face. Because you know it tastes like dirt but they can't say anything about it. Note: This whole scenario assumes that the person cooking the meal at Christmas has heavy misanthropic tendencies like this author.

Barring that just serve everyone ham because you're pretty much doing the same thing. Note: I expect an outraged number of comments from ham lovers and the pig growers of america. That may or may not be an organization.